


Take me out to dinner first

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Death, Ghouls, Gore, M/M, Vampires, the death is a nameless person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5408564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, I forget where I heard this, but someone said once that people should stop saying they have a ‘broken heart’ or whatever when they’re experiencing strong emotions. Because a heart is pure muscle—not my favorite part, personally—if you’re going to store flimsy emotions anywhere, it should be in your liver, because that shit just falls apart.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me out to dinner first

**Author's Note:**

> Okay....so this grossnasty fic was originally going to be part of a much larger fic I was writing for Halloween that ended up being horrible so I'm not going to finish it. But the porn bit is pretty okay I think, so Happy Halloween, eh

“You weren’t kidding about being a sick bastard,” Suga says, watching Takahiro rip apart soft pieces of liver from their freshly dead victim. He held out so long. Takahiro is so proud of this nameless, dead stranger, and so thankful for all the fun they had together. Even with half his body ripped open and some of his organs detached, he still screamed and called for help. It makes the taste that much sweeter, as good as candy. One of the things he remembers is that he used to be really into cream puffs when he was human. He can’t remember what they tasted like anymore, but he swears this is just as good.

He holds up a piece of the slippery organ and examines it in the moonlight, where it appears purple. This park isn’t that well-lit by streetlights, something that saves both of them some discomfort. “You know, I forget where I heard this, but someone said once that people should stop saying they have a ‘broken heart’ or whatever when they’re experiencing strong emotions. Because a heart is pure muscle—not my favorite part, personally—if you’re going to store flimsy emotions anywhere, it should be in your liver, because that shit just falls apart.” He sticks his fingers of his other hand into the remaining clump of liver to demonstrate his point, which seems to melt like wet paper between them, breaking into layers and pieces. “I like the idea of it.” He pops the piece in his mouth and chews thoughtfully.

Suga nods with a look of faint amused interest on his face. “Interesting. I never thought of it like that, but I’d have to agree.”

“You want to try some?” Takahiro offers him a piece, but Suga shakes his head.

“I can’t digest the solid stuff. Thank you though. I got what I needed.” He had taken some of the man’s blood before Takahiro opened him up, making his prolonged survival even more impressive. The guy was definitely a trooper. Takahiro is once again struck by an overwhelming sense of affection. He munches on the second piece of liver and affectionately pats the corpse’s cheek, smearing blood across it.

“You made such a mess, Takahiro,” Suga chides, not sounding all that bothered by it.

Takahiro grins. He’s got blood all over his clothes, and his hands are red up to the wrist from rooting around in the man’s insides. It’s drying sticky on his face, clumping together his hair from where he’d run his hand through it. But the fun part is getting clean, washing away the life and death of another being as if it means nothing, an expendable resource. Truthfully, it’s not—he does still need it to keep the horrible, aching hunger away—but Takahiro would be lying if he didn’t have a bit of a complex considering himself like a god among humans, deciding when they died, and much more rarely, when they would be allowed to live. Nights like those only happened when he was in a peculiar mood, not that hungry, or perhaps if the victim was boring, accepting their death quietly. But in those cases he would just leave them, and their life was in the hands of fate.

Takahiro is more or less satisfied with all that he’s eaten tonight—a good chunk of liver, a bit of lung, the pancreas (always a favorite, for the slight crunch and tangy aftertaste), not to mention picking over a bit of good old fashioned fat deposits—though not too many, since he has to keep up his figure. He wipes his hands on the man’s pants, doing little more than smearing around the sticky mess that coats them, and stands up. Suga uncrosses his legs and gets off the bench he was perched on surveys him, laughing a light, gentle laugh. “You really look terrifying. I sure hope we don’t run into any cops on the way back.”

Takahiro shrugs and loops his sticky arm through Suga’s clean one. “I think we can take ‘em.”

**X**

The water and blood swirls around his feet like strawberry lemonade, circling into the drain like so much other human trash he’s disposed of. He sucks pensively on the index finger of one of his hands as the spray from the showerhead falls across his neck and back, swirling his tongue around and around to scrape off the stickiness in layers. He always has a habit of eating too much, but he and Suga walked a bit before going home, and that lessened the too-full ache in his belly. He feels like he could eat again, but he’ll leave it for a while. Gluttony never suited him. He tends more to his other vices. The one on his mind right now is Lust.

Takahiro takes a long shower, drawing out his desire until it’s burning within him, where without his self-control, he could easily be hard just by thinking about Suga right now. He waits until his skin is soft and wrinkled before getting out, and even puts some sweatpants so he can pretend he’s thinking about going to bed.

Suga doesn’t even try. “Get the light?” he suggests when Takahiro breaches the doorway. Takahiro flips the switch on his way. He’s lying on the bed in nothing but a fluffy pink robe. It’s not even satin or silk or anything, but whatever that soft, furry material they seem to like to make robes out of these days. _Modern vampires_ , Takahiro reminds himself, amused. Suga’s even upside down on the bed, with his feet towards the pillows, watching Takahiro with a broad smile on his face. “I have to say, you can make the look work with or without the blood.”

Takahiro flashes his teeth in a grin and runs his hand through his cropped hair, shaking loose excess moisture, before crawling onto the bed. He drops one arm on either side of Suga, caging him in, and staring intensely at him and loving how he doesn’t back down, but lifts his chin with a glint in his eye. He waits for an invitation, not wanting to give in to his own desires just yet, holding out for the sake of the challenge. Suga just keeps that coy look on his face, still and beautiful and ethereal as a doll except for the flicking movements of his irises. “Tell me to kiss you,” Takahiro says, his voice rough.

“Why don’t you just do it, if you want to so badly?”

“You’re not very good at this.”

He gives a shrug, disturbing the shoulder of his already loose robe so it slides down. Takahiro salivates. “You have your ways, and I have mine.”

“Ask me anyway.”

Suga pauses, just a sliver of space between his lips. Takahiro can see the sharp points of white. Suga’s fangs are extended. He wants them in him. “Kiss me, Takahiro.”

Takahiro does, hard and bruising and passionate, pressing himself against Suga’s body, curling his hand around his jaw as he nips open Suga’s lips. His tongue spills blood when Suga bites down on it and they both moan at the taste as it passes between them, licking it off each other before the wound heals. Takahiro does his best with his own blunt teeth, seizing Suga’s lips between them until he tastes the sweet substance that flows through his veins. It’s that same sensation as before, like fire, like drinking from the mouth of a volcano that makes all his nerves burn. He moves to Suga’s shoulder, hovering over the spot the robe has slipped down to reveal a pale expanse of skin. He hesitates.

“Just don’t tear anything off,” Suga breathes, gently pressing his fingernails into Takahiro’s shoulder. Takahiro is already on him, biting hard and deep until heat burns his mouth and leaks onto the white bedsheets. Suga sighs and scrapes his nails more deeply across Takahiro’s back as he laps at his shoulder, leaving welts that blood rises from and smears when his fingers passing across the skin. He grinds up against Takahiro through their loose clothes, opening his robe up further. Takahiro can feel the outline of his half hard cock rubbing against his leg as he bites again at Suga’s neck, drawing more blood, increasing the mess beneath them.

He sits up, dizzy and high off the taste of their bond settling in his mouth, and wraps his hand around Suga’s leaking cock, giving it a firm tug. Suga moans, curling his hand around Takahiro’s wrist, bending his torso in the same direction. His fangs ghost along a prominent vein in Takahiro’s forearm, so he turns his arm, urging Suga to taste him, gasping in pleasure when he does. He watches his blood leak down over Suga’s lips as Takahiro strokes his cock, feeling an equal but different fire tingling through his arm as he drinks him in.

When the punctures in his arm heal, Suga doesn’t reopen them. He turns and lies flat again, lifting his hips into Takahiro’s touch with his eyes closed and his face stained red. “There’s lube in the nightstand,” he says, imploring. Takahiro nearly jumps off the bed, shoving his pants down and kicking them off as he rummages through the drawer for the bottle.

He pops it open as he’s climbing back on, and Suga is on his knees in front of him, having slipped his arms out of the robe, which is now stained red like some sort of Valentine’s Day gone wrong. Suga pushes him down and guides his hand with its wet fingers between his legs, where Takahiro seeks out his hole and presses one into him. He rocks back on it and bites his lip, drawing more blood when his fangs dig into the soft skin like it’s nothing more than butter. He opens his eyes, having closed them briefly, and fixes Takahiro with a cool stare and a chilly smile. “Don’t go easy on me,” he says. “I won’t return the favor.” He smirks and shoves another finger in, quick and hard and deep, earning a blissed-out moan. Suga leans down over his neck and inhales deeply through his nose. “You smell so good, Takahiro.”

Takahiro crooks his fingers deep in Suga, pressing down hard with the calloused pads on his prostate. “I could say the same.” He breathes in through his nose and his mouth at the same time, brushing against Suga’s hair with his cheek. Suga sinks into his neck more gently now, scrubbing his tongue again and again over the blood that flows from Takahiro’s carotid. He leans in, hoping to deepen the piercing of his fangs, craving the pain where it tingles in his neck. He presses a third finger into Suga’s ass and spreads them all, twisting his wrist, fucking him open wet and sloppy.

Suga drinks his fill for the second time tonight, though this time his meal will live to tell the tale, and also to fuck him. Takahiro’s cock is aching by the time Suga pulls back with blood dripping down his chin and sits up. He pulls his fingers out, reaching for the lube again to slather over his cock. Suga wipes his mouth on the back of his arm, then on his hand, though it still leaves a gruesome pink stain across his flesh. Takahiro doesn’t mind. He grips Suga’s hip with one hand and guides his cock into him with the other. He doesn’t expect Suga to force himself down hard and fast until he’s fully sheathed inside him. He grunts at the pressure, digging his now-extended claws into Suga’s hips. “It’s no fun if you go too fast,” he complains.

“I like it fast. You’ll just have to keep up.” Takahiro makes a non-committal noise and Suga slides a finger from his jaw to his chin. “I’ll teach you how to have fun, Takahiro.”

He rolls his hips, then lifts them and slams down hard on Takahiro’s cock, gasping and moaning. Takahiro rakes his claws along Suga’s thighs, fucking up into him, wondering if it’s a vampire thing or a blood bond thing that makes it feel so good. The last dozen or so beings he fucked were human, before he tore their organs out and ate them; Takahiro’s never gotten along well with other monsters. Most of those experiences were passable at best, but Suga is phenomenal—every place they’ve locked together, every exchange of blood and fluid and life and death feels _amazing_.

Suga fucks hard, and fast, as he promised, clawing over Takahiro’s chest, scraping at his nipples and ribs recklessly. “Touch me,” he murmurs, still authoritative even through the haze of sex and blood. Takahiro obeys, wiping the hand he used to finger him across the bleeding scratches on his legs for some aid before fisting around his cock again. He twists and pumps in time with his thrusts and Suga’s movements, going dizzy with pleasure and lust and losing control of his own voice as Suga breathes his name.

Takahiro wants more contact, deeper, harder. He purposefully slips out of Suga, pushing up against him to force him down on his hands and knees. He plunges back into his hot, dripping ass and grabs him by the hair, drinking in the sight of his spine curving beneath more unblemished skin. “Takahiro,” Suga whines, voice coming pinched out from his curved throat. “Harder.”

He obliges, pressing down on Suga’s neck with one hand as the other jerks his dick and his hips slam forward into him. Suga is loud, riding like a wave back and forth on Takahiro’s cock, twitching in his hand, and he gives a strangled moan as he comes. Takahiro strokes him through it, feeling his cum sliding beneath his palm and through his fingers, mixing with all the other fluids on it, and then forces him down into the mattress so he can fuck him through to his own orgasm. He lasts a dozen or so more thrusts before gasping and shuddering to completion.

Only when Takahiro pulls out and collapses next to him does he realize he’s shaking from adrenaline, or maybe something stronger. Suga moves over and rests his head on Takahiro’s chest, tracing the fading lines he drew with his own nails earlier. “That was wonderful,” he sighs. “It’s been a while since I was fucked that thoroughly.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked or been fucked that thoroughly.” Takahiro remarks, and Suga laughs heartily. The vibrations move against his heart, and then when the sound stops, and they’re quiet and alive.

 


End file.
